


Red Lightning

by castiello



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s03e18 The Red Mile, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Season 3, Season/Series 03, Worried Teresa Lisbon, season three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 08:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiello/pseuds/castiello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late one night at the CBI, a worried Lisbon, a heavy-hearted Jane, and a mysteriously troubled Cho all come together. Will anyone get any sleep? Tag for The Red Mile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Neither The Mentalist nor its marvelous characters belong to me. No profit is being made from this story. And, to be honest, very little profit is made from anything in my life, so please don't sue me - it will not turn out well for either of us!
> 
> A/N: This story was written for the Jello-Forever April 2011 Challenge. Prompt: "My whole universe."

One of the other coroners, Dr. Long, had called her with the news. He knew that she'd just worked a case with Dr. Steiner. He knew that she was friends with Jane.

"I felt like I should tell _some_ one…" Dr. Long had said.

Meaning, he hadn't known who else to call. It was common knowledge that Jane didn't have any family – no one to go home to, no one to confide in about the pain of watching yet another human being die. These days, Jane rarely even _went_ home. As far as Lisbon knew, he never confided in anyone.

Apparently, Dr. Steiner didn't have any family, either. His wife had died of leukemia four summers ago, and they had no children. Lisbon had just learned these facts tonight, from Dr. Long. She'd never taken the time to learn them while Dr. Steiner was still alive, when it still mattered.

The details of his death were scant: Suicide by medication overdose, in his own home, witnessed by Jane. Call to collect the body came about an hour after the actual TOD. Jane had remained at the scene, cooperating fully with investigating officers.

That was all Dr. Long could tell her. That was all she really needed to know. Lisbon's imagination could fill in the rest. It wasn't long before her brain was bleeding with unwanted images, overflowing with scenarios that left her cold:

Jane, sitting in Steiner's living room, hearing Steiner's last gasp of air. Jane, sitting in Steiner's living room with a corpse. For an _hour_. Jane, sitting at the office right now, alone and in the dark.

It was enough to get Lisbon into her car at 10:45pm.

Dr. Long did tell her one other thing: Steiner had recently been diagnosed with a terminal illness. It explained why Jane had suddenly started being so nice to him. It also explained Steiner's desire to end his life on his own terms, even though Lisbon would never agree with his choice.

People were supposed to _fight_ , dammit. Not just give up. Not just lie down and die…

Lisbon's eyes burned at the thought of her father. She scrubbed them dry and kept driving.

The CBI building was mostly dark when she got there. A security guard named Ron waved her through the gate with a weary grin.

"Workday just never ends for you, does it?" he joked.

Lisbon forced a smile. The workday _did_ end; her concern for Jane never seemed to.

The parking lot up ahead was a vast stretch of white lines, empty black spaces…and one tiny blue sports car, sitting all alone. Something twisted inside of Lisbon at the sight – a bittersweet yin-yang of emotion: Glad he was here. Sad he had nowhere else to go.

She rode the elevator up to the bullpen, only to find it silent and deserted. Lisbon peeked inside her office doorway, hoping to see a dark form sprawled across her new white sofa, but there was no one. She sighed. Sometimes it seemed like his whole universe was shrinking down to a single, dingy room.

Heaviness dragging at her heart, Lisbon set off for the attic.

Her knock was met by painful stillness. When she slid the door back, she found him lying on his back, on his bed made of plywood, staring at the ceiling. He didn't even blink when the light from the hallway poured over him.

"Jane?" she began softly. "I heard about Dr. Steiner…"

He made a small noise in the back of his throat: "Hm." Some form of acknowledgment, at least. She'd take what she could get.

"A-anyway, I'll be working downstairs, if you want to…come down," she finished, a little bit lamely.

Jane didn't say anything.

Lisbon lingered there, awkwardly, before sliding the door shut.

She couldn't believe she'd almost said, "If you want to talk." Of course, Jane didn't want to talk. Lisbon remembered something he'd said last fall: "You almost got me talking…" Like it was something he actively guarded against, every moment of every day. Like she was trying to trick him somehow, by getting him to open up. As if that was the only way.

Lisbon sighed and headed back downstairs. She had let him know that she was here, that he wasn't alone.

For the moment, it would have to be enough.

***

Lisbon settled in at her desk. A few nice, quiet hours, free of all the usual distractions – it was the perfect opportunity to attack the six-inch stack of paperwork that had been taunting her all week.

She soon discovered, though, that the office was _too_ quiet. Lisbon was used to coins jingling in the snack machine, followed by the sound of Rigsby crunching on salted peanuts. She was accustomed to the clacking of keys on Van Pelt's computer, and Cho's low voice making phone calls. Without these things, Lisbon's mind had too much freedom, too much space to wander. And no matter how hard she tried to focus on interview notes and Form 41s, her thoughts always ended up back in the same place: upstairs, with Jane.

She was genuinely surprised when, after about an hour, she heard him amble into the bullpen and flop down on his brown leather couch. She was outright shocked when, ten minutes after that, he moseyed into her office and flopped down on _her_ couch.

Without a word, he stretched out flat on his back, laced his hands behind his head, and gazed at the ceiling, just as he had upstairs.

Lisbon could sense the delicacy of the situation, as though a wild finch had fluttered down to land in her open palm. No noises, no sudden movements. She was afraid to even look at him, lest he fly away.

They stayed like this for a long time, Lisbon working quietly at her desk, Jane lying motionless but wide awake on the couch. They might have stayed like this all night, if someone else hadn't entered the dark bullpen.

Lisbon glanced at her wall clock; it was almost 1:00am. Who the heck…?

There was a soft clatter, a rustle of papers, and then a desk lamp came on, revealing Cho's silhouette. Lisbon relaxed. She watched him sit down and flip open a folder, studying the contents. He must have forgotten to finish something. Cho liked things finished.

After a moment, Cho shut the folder and turned off the light. But, strangely, he didn't leave. A minute passed, then two, and he just sat there. In the _dark_. Lisbon frowned. This wasn't like Cho. It was more like something Jane would do. She didn't like Cho acting like Jane. She didn't even like _Jane_ acting like Jane…

When almost five minutes had gone by, and Cho still hadn't moved, Lisbon was starting to get worried. She looked over at Jane. He remained prone on the couch, but she could tell he was listening. His eyes, though still locked on the ceiling, were very present. Acutely aware.

Slowly, as if sensing some deep disturbance in The Force, Jane sat up. He looked out through the glass into the lightless office beyond. There was no sound from the bullpen. No movement. Without a word, Jane got to his feet.

Then, like a bumblebee drawn to a bright red tulip, he wandered out into the main office.

Lisbon hurried after him. Cho sat very still at his desk as they approached, and Lisbon wondered if he'd fallen asleep. It _was_ very late…She clicked on the desk lamp. Cho blinked. Lisbon peered at him.

"Cho?" she ventured.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah."

"So…what are you doing here in the middle of the night?" Lisbon asked.

"You're here," Cho pointed out.

It was hard to argue with that point. She looked at Jane for help, but he was just watching the interaction – a fascinated spectator, waiting to see what would happen next.

Cho cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. He looked a little uncomfortable. His hair looked a little mussed.

Lisbon studied his face. "Did you _sleepwalk_ here?"

"I don't sleepwalk."

"He's upset about something," Jane offered, speaking up at last. "And it has to do with _this_ case…" Jane poked one of the files on Cho's desk. "He's flipped it over."

It was true; the rest of the folders in the neat pile were all face-up, tabs clearly visible. The one on top was face down. Very _un_ -Cho-like. Lisbon picked up the top file. It was the case they'd just wrapped, the one Dr. Steiner had helped with.

A sudden thought occurred to Lisbon. "Did Dr. Long call you?"

At the mention of the coroner, Jane looked away. Cho, however, simply looked blank.

"No," he said.

So, he didn't know about Steiner after all. Lisbon started running through the case in her mind, trying to think of something else that might have flapped the unflappable Cho. "Is it Tim Hartley? The way he was killed?" Throat-slitting was nasty, even as a supposed act of mercy. But Cho didn't react, so Lisbon pressed on, "Is it that butler, Harrison? You're upset that the charges got dropped?" Still nothing. "The widow?" The straws were getting more and more random. "The business partner? That UFO guy, Garrett Roston?" Lisbon couldn't stop a smile from blossoming. " _Aliens_?" she joked.

Cho's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

Lisbon stared at him.

Jane looked delighted. "Cho?" he asked curiously, "Were you abducted?"

Cho wouldn't meet their eyes. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe."

And then he got up and walked away from the desk.

***

"Jane," Lisbon called out, "he's been gone ten minutes…"

A soft clinking of dishes was the only reply she got.

"Jane?" she tried again. "I don't think he's coming back…"

Jane appeared from the kitchen, two steaming teacups and one steaming mug hooked expertly on his fingers. He walked over and carefully deposited his cargo on the desk.

"Oh, he'll be back," Jane assured her, sliding the mug in her direction.

Wonderful, rich-smelling mist warmed Lisbon's cheeks. She picked up the mug and inhaled gratefully. The ceramic was hot against her hands, the coffee delicious as it spilled down her throat. The whole routine was achingly ordinary – an anchor to hold her in place while the entire universe tilted.

Because Cho believed he might have been abducted by aliens. _Cho_. Lisbon's right-hand man. The one she counted on to be sane and rational, even when she wasn't. The one who would never walk up and tell her he'd slept with a coworker, would never put on a rubber mask – or use a fake bomb – to trick someone into confessing…

…And now he believed he might have been abducted by aliens.

Lisbon wished she'd had some warning. Sure, that witch lady a few years ago had freaked him out pretty bad, but that was different. Magic and spells and superstition were one thing…but aliens? _Aliens?_

Jane pulled up a seat and began delicately sipping his tea.

Lisbon had already dragged a chair over from Rigsby's desk. She took another drink of her coffee, savoring the flavor more now that it wasn't scalding. It really _was_ delicious. Jane was so particular about his tea, it made sense that his coffee would be a liquid masterpiece, too. She finished off the drink in several long swallows and sat back, warm and full.

Jane set his tea down and nudged the third, untouched cup toward Cho's empty seat.

"Seriously," Lisbon started to say, "I don't think he's—"

Almost as if on cue, they heard footsteps. Seconds later, Cho walked in, returning from wherever he'd been for the last fifteen minutes. Lisbon didn't even have a guess. The bathroom? The parking lot? The moon? Jane probably knew…

Cho sat down across from them and clasped his hands on the desk. "All right," he said, without preamble. "Go ahead." He looked Lisbon right in the eye.

She faltered. "Go ahead and what?"

"Tell me I'm crazy."

"You're not crazy," Lisbon told him quickly.

Jane opened his mouth to say something, but she stomped down on his foot, hard.

Lisbon ignored Jane's exaggerated "OW" face and focused on Cho. "Is this about what Roston said to you?" she asked gently. "You know he was lying, right?"

"I know."

"Then what happened? Why do you believe, all of a sudden, that you might've been abducted?"

Cho looked at her, and Lisbon could see him searching, genuinely _trying_ to find the answer.

"I don't know," he said finally. It was as frustrated as she had ever seen him. Lisbon felt a little helpless.

"Well," Jane mused, "There is an easy enough way to find out…"

Cho gave him a very dead look. "I'm not letting you hypnotize me."

"No hypnosis," Jane promised. "Let's just talk…"

Cho sat back in his seat and folded his arms tight across his chest, the personification of ACCESS DENIED.

"No harm in talking, right?" Jane went on, and Lisbon had to suppress the urge to stomp on his foot again. So _now_ he wanted to talk? How typically Jane. _He_ was off limits, but everyone else was fair game…

Jane pulled a bright yellow legal pad and a pen toward him and started to write something. "You're in a safe place, here, right?" he asked, his hand dancing across the page, "The office is safe…You're among friends…There's no harm in talking…"

Lisbon noticed his voice taking on that soothing, silky quality, like a lullaby. She tried to see what he was writing, but it was upside-down.

"You came here because something happened," Jane purred. "You came here because you want to know…So let's just talk…and be safe…as friends…"

Cho was looking at the legal pad, reading the words. Lisbon squinted to decipher reversed letters:

.UOY GNIZITONPYH TON MA I  
.UOY GNIZITONPYH TON MA I  
.UOY GNIZITONPYH TON MA I  
.UOY GNIZITONPYH TON MA I

I AM NOT HYPNOTIZING YOU.  
I AM NOT HYPNOTIZING YOU.  
I AM NOT HYPNOTIZING YOU.  
I AM NOT HYPNOTIZING YOU.

She remembered standing with Jane, in her apartment: _"I'm not going to hypnotize you…You're too stressed… I am not hypnotizing you, Lisbon…"_

She glared at him. Jane just smiled. It was a nice thing to see.

Jane kept up the rhythm, talking low and scrawling with the pen. Lisbon had no idea how he could write like that, with such ease. From Cho's side of the desk, the letters would look right-side up and perfect…

Jane reached the end of the page, flipped it over, and started a new one, all without missing a beat. Each movement was fluid grace, a mesmerizing extension of his voice. Cho never even blinked.

After three pages, the rigid line began to melt from Cho's shoulders.

After nine pages (and half of a tenth), Lisbon's right-hand man slowly sat forward. His arms unfolded from his chest. His hands came to settle in his lap, loose and relaxed.

Jane's soft, musical voice went up and down like the hills. Up and down…

"Let's just talk…" he murmured. "And not worry about anything at all…"

Cho blinked heavily, still gazing at the legal pad. There was an extended pause, and then—

"Okay," he said at last. "What do you want to talk about?"

Jane smiled. He nudged Lisbon's shoulder, and she realized her own eyelids had been drooping. She sat up straighter.

"Cho," Jane began, "We're going to talk about what happened tonight…But first – you're jealous of my Sudoku skills, aren't you?"

"Yes," Cho answered, without hesitation.

Lisbon shot Jane a warning look.

Jane smiled even wider. "And, uh, what do you think of Lisbon, as a boss?"

" _Jane!_ " she hissed.

"She's a good leader. Smart and efficient."

Lisbon felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She ducked her head, trying not to blush.

"Too soft on _you_ , though," Cho added.

Jane grinned. "Now, about tonight…Why did you come into the office? Do you remember?"

"To reread the Hartley case file. The parts about alien abduction."

"Why?"

"Something happened when I was driving home."

"From here?" Lisbon asked. "From work?" She actually wasn't sure if she was supposed to talk to him, if he was somehow "programmed" only to respond to Jane – but Cho answered her readily enough:

"No. From Elise's"

Jane's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Ah, Elise. Did you two have a nice date?"

"Yes. Things are progressing well."

"I'm sure," Jane smiled. "But something happened after you left there? When you were on your way home?"

"Yes."

"What was it?"

"I…" Cho's brow furrowed. "I don't…"

"Okay," said Jane quickly. "It's okay…Just relax. Relax, and go back to the moment right after you said goodbye to Elise…Go there, and live it. Breathe it, as if it's happening right now…And then take us through, step-by-step, what happens next. You've just said goodbye, and then…?"

"I wait while she goes in. I listen to her lock the door. Then I go to my car and sit inside."

"You don't drive off?" Jane asked.

"Not right away. I watch her turn the lights on, make sure everything looks safe."

Jane's face got a strange look on it – sweet, and sad. "She doesn't know that you do that, does she?"

"No."

Jane smiled just a little, and nodded to himself. Then he cleared his throat. "So, does everything look safe?"

"Yes. She seems fine."

"Now what happens?" Jane asked.

"I turn the car on and drive away."

"Where are you going?"

"Home. I'm on my way home. I come to a four-way stop, and start to brake—"

"The kind with just the stop signs?" Jane interrupted. "Or the kind with the flashing light?"

"The flashing light."

"Like this?" Jane asked. He clicked the desk light off, and then on again. Off, and on. Off, on.

"Yeah," Cho answered.

Jane left the light on. "So, you're stopping the car, and then…?"

"I get a flash. Like a memory. Very intense."

"Describe it."

"I'm high up off the ground. Out in the universe. Everything looks small. I can't move – there's an invisible force holding me in place. An oxygen mask comes down over my face. I can hear a man's voice, but I can't see him. His voice comes from all around. I see a flashing red light…Then nothing."

Jane seemed to ponder this for a moment, rubbing at his chin stubble. Lisbon took the opportunity to very quietly and very secretly freak out. A disembodied voice? An "invisible force"? This did not sound good…

"What is the man's voice saying?" Jane asked slowly.

"That everything will be okay…That I shouldn't be afraid."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

It felt wrong, hearing Cho admit this – especially so matter-of-factly. Lisbon couldn't quite look at his face. She should have stopped Jane; they shouldn't be doing this…

"Do you recognize the voice?" the consultant wanted to know.

"No."

"Hmm…" Jane murmured thoughtfully. He seemed way too calm, entirely too cheerful. It made Lisbon want to throttle him.

"Cho, when you served in the military, did you fly much?" Jane asked. "Plane rides, helicopter rides?"

"Yes."

"Did anything ever happen during those flights? An attack? Engine trouble? Technical difficulties? A medical emergency onboard?"

"No."

"Hmm," Jane said again. "How about when you were younger? Did you take any airplane trips as a child?"

"Once," Cho answered slowly. "With my father…"

"Tell us about it."

"An old friend of his had died. The funeral was out-of-state. Dad said I had to pay my respects."

A knowing smirk curled Jane's lips. "You didn't want to go, did you?"

"No."

"There was something at home, something you wanted to stay for?"

"My Little League tournament," Cho confirmed.

Jane's face softened. "Ah. Baseball…So, he made you go with him?"

"Yes."

"How was the flight?"

"It was…" Cho hesitated, and Lisbon could practically see the memory awakening in him. "It was bad," he said finally, as though realizing it for the first time. "Really bad."

"What happened?" Jane asked.

"Everything was fine most of the way, but then…we dropped. Just took a nosedive – straight down, no warning. My book fell out of my hand and hit the person in front of me…"

"Where were you sitting? Front of the plane? Back? Aisle seat?"

"Window seat, middle of the plane. By the wing."

Jane was studying him very carefully. "And did you look out the window? When you were falling?"

"Yes."

"What did you see?"

"Just clouds, at first. Then we broke through, and I could see the ground. I could see how high up we were. Everything looked small…"

"What happened next?"

"The oxygen masks fell down from the ceiling. I tried to reach mine, but I couldn't lift my arm. We were falling so steep and so fast, I was pinned to my seat."

"An invisible force, holding you down," Jane commented softly. "So, someone else put the mask on your face?"

"My Dad…His mask didn't even fall like it was supposed to. He still reached over and held mine on me…" Cho's voice caught, just a little.

Lisbon felt something catch in her throat, too.

"What about the flight staff?" Jane asked. "What were they doing?"

"Screaming, mostly."

Jane smiled.

"The pilot was talking to us, though," Cho went on. "I could hear his voice on the loudspeaker, telling us he could get it under control. He kept saying that everything would be okay, that we shouldn't be afraid…I didn't believe it, but he must have known what he was talking about. Or he just got lucky. Either way, the plane didn't crash. I thought it was going to. When I blacked out, we were still falling…"

Cho's voice trailed off. His eyes were lost in the past.

Jane sat back in his seat, looking drained but satisfied.

"What about the flashing red light?" Lisbon asked. "Was it a 'seat belt' sign or something?"

Jane held up his pointer finger and smiled like he knew the answer. He _always_ knew the answer. "Uh, Cho? Right before you lost consciousness, where were you looking?"

"Out the window..."

"What could you see?"

"The ground, the sky…the wing of the plane."

"And what was on the wing?"

"A red light," Cho answered. "Flashing on and off."

"Like this?" Jane asked. He turned the desk light off and back on. Off, on. Off, on.

"Yeah."

Jane left the light on.

All three of them sat in thoughtful silence. Finally, Jane heaved a deep sigh. "Well, I'm beat. I think we're done here…"

He picked up the pen and neatly printed one last, upside-down word on the yellow legal pad:

.ENOD

DONE.

***

"You hypnotized me," Cho accused.

"Yes," Jane admitted.

"You weren't supposed to do that."

"You wouldn't have let me if you didn't want to know," Jane pointed out. "And now you know."

"So, it was just a near-plane crash?"

Lisbon smiled. Only Cho would use the word "just" coupled with "near-plane crash."

"It happened so long ago, you probably just forgot about it," Jane told him. "All this alien talk must have jarred the memory loose. And Roston's suggestion that you might have been abducted caused you to misinterpret what really happened."

Cho sighed. "So, now what? I'm not going to kiss Rigsby or anything, am I?"

Jane grinned. "Only if you want to."

Cho looked over at Lisbon in alarm.

"You're _not_ going to," she assured him. "Jane didn't do anything funny – I watched him the whole time."

"Good," Cho grunted.

"Unless, of course, I hypnotized you both," Jane suggested unhelpfully.

Cho started to look worried again.

Jane's eyes danced.

Lisbon felt a headache coming on. Sometimes, it was like dealing with five-year-olds…

After about ten more minutes of teasing about questionable post-hypnotic suggestions (and one dare to chug stone-cold tea), the "boys" finally began to settle down from their adventure. Jane, in particular, grew quiet. Lisbon could see him slowly fading, the smiles coming less and less frequently, the toll of the day's events showing plainly in his tired blue eyes.

She felt a little proud of herself for casually slipping in the suggestion that they all catch a few hours' sleep before driving home. Or _not_ driving home, in Jane's case. Even Cho, who didn't know anything about her ulterior motive, agreed that it was a smart plan. It was almost 4:00am, and it had been a long, strange night for all of them.

Emphasis on "strange."

Lisbon was digging around in her desk, searching for the spare toothbrush she kept there, when she spotted Jane slipping quietly toward the staircase.

She jogged over and caught up with him. "You're going back upstairs?"

He smiled. "Well, both of my couches are taken…"

"Cho said he could take Mulligan's couch, over in Missing Persons…"

Jane waved a hand dismissively. "Eh. Mulligan's couch is a boulder. I'm fine upstairs…"

"I'll walk with you, then," Lisbon offered.

They'd only taken a few steps when a soft voice called out, "Hey, Jane?"

They turned and saw Cho standing in the middle of the dark hallway.

"Thanks," he said simply.

Jane nodded. Cho nodded back, and walked into the bullpen. Jane and Lisbon headed upstairs. Lisbon waited in the attic doorway while Jane got settled, watching him arrange his pillow and shabby blanket.

It was funny, the way of the universe. If Dr. Long hadn't called her tonight, she probably would have fallen asleep watching _The Howling 3: The Marsupials_ , with an empty carton of Edy's Reduced Fat Cookie Dough Ice Cream in her lap. Jane would have spent the night in his dark attic, sad and alone, and Cho would've been left wondering – maybe for the rest of his life – whether he'd been probed aboard some extraterrestrial spacecraft.

Instead, the three of them had come together. They had helped each other.

Jane sat down on the board that served as his bed, and Lisbon heard it creak.

"Well," he said, looking up at her, "Good night, Lisbon."

Jane smiled, but it was feeble. She knew he was waiting for her to leave. She hesitated.

"Jane?"

"Yes?"

"You did a good thing," Lisbon told him quietly. "You helped him."

From the shadowed look in Jane's eyes, she could tell he understood that she wasn't just talking about Cho. Lisbon might never know the exact circumstances of Steiner's death, but at least he had not died alone…and that was because of Jane.

She saw Jane's throat bob in a rough swallow. He didn't say anything. Oddly enough, she didn't need him to.

"Good night, Jane," she said softly, and slid the door closed – but not all the way closed. A single shaft of light still beamed in from the hallway, and Lisbon left it this way.

Because Jane _wasn't_ alone.

And, just for tonight, he shouldn't be in the dark, either.


End file.
